Incidents of Offbeat Musicality (the Guitar Deserves Better)
by Keynn
Summary: Out the window it goes; and who knew Hisagi could sing? Not Kensei. - KenShuu


**Incidents of Offbeat Musicality (the Guitar Deserves Better)**

 _KenShuu_

* * *

With a sigh, Kensei yanked open the drawer to his desk, looking longingly at the ear plugs which rested there. If he put them in Hisagi would know how fucked up his guitar playing actually was … Which would be … (Kensei stopped, trying to objectively consider someone else's feelings. Hisagi was some what sensitive and required a certain kind of kindness Kensei didn't frequently indulge) Bad? He thought. But if he didn't put them in … He may go deaf which was … Also bad. (And here, Kensei's face scrunched up in aggravated and irate dissatisfaction.) He slammed the drawer back into its snug hole, which was less snug with all the mishandling Kensei had wrought upon it. His fukutaichou stopped playing the piece of shit instrument long enough to look questioningly up at Kensei and for a moment it was like a blissful coexistence rested between the two men. Kensei's nerves registered the absent noise and threw themselves up in gratitude to the deity which had ended their torment.

But Hisagi, having not registered or perhaps not recognized the relief on his taichou's face, went back to strumming and Kensei could feel the hell fire at his ankles welcoming him back. The awful noise didn't last much longer. Kensei wasn't a man of patience, and certainly not of meekness. He stood (perhaps some ten minutes later) slamming his hands on his desk in the process. Garnering the attention of both Hisagi and a nervous recruit who had had the misfortune of walking past the open office door just in time to see her taichou loom over the space he occupied. She scurried off. Hisagi raised an eyebrow hesitantly.

"Taichou?" He asked tentatively. Hisagi had his legs propped up on his desk, his guitar rested on his thighs and he had been strumming at it studiously for the better part of his lunch break. Kensei had honestly thought he could tough it out for what? Thirty minutes. Shoulda been a cake walk. He'd been wrong. Hisagi didn't know a thing about music it seemed, stringed instruments or otherwise. He didn't know any cords, his fingers fumbled and the noise he produced had no direction. Listening to him was the auditory equivalent of pulling at the stitches on a fresh wound just as Unohana was walking in. Kensei couldn't take it anymore. He stalked around his desk, over to Hisagi's, and yanked the instrument from the startled kid's grasp.

"No more," he grunted. Hisagi watched in awe and horror as his taichou threw open their office window and pitched the instrument into the ninth's courtyard. It made an interesting twanging sound as it hit the ground.

To Kensei, this seemed like paradise. To Hisagi, it was like having a rock collide with the side of his head during a bar fight. It had taken him a month's pay to buy that guitar. He ran to the window and looked dejectedly at the abused instrument, brought a hand up to his face and chocked back a sob for the long hours wasted. Kensei watched this, not knowing what to do and unable to force himself to be entirely apologetic of the action. Surely Hisagi knew? … Surely… But his fukutaichou didn't look back at him, didn't say words and Kensei was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Look, hisagi," he began, but got no further. With a quick flash, Hisagi had retrieved the instrument, and in another he was gone from the ninth altogether. At day's end, Hisagi still hadn't returned. Kensei could feel the kid's spiritual pressure at the indoor training area just on the edge of the division, it had been there for the better part of the day. Kensei had no idea where Hisagi went initially, but he'd come back about an hour after he'd left. Had gone to the training area and had apparently intended to stay there. Kensei made a soft grunting noise and threw his pen a Mashiro, who was sleeping on the couch.

"Go home," he growled, "you're basically useless."

"I'm providing you company, asshole~" Mashiro smiled, not bothering to open her eyes.

"I don't need company, I need a co-second who actually does shit," and here Kensei gave her a pointed look. Mashiro swiveled on the couch and leaned forward purposefully her hands gripped the cushions at her sides as she matched Kensei's glare with innocent eyes.

"That's why you have Shuu-kun," she said, her voice devilishly sweet. Kensei knew she knew, and she was milking it. "What's wrong with our little fukutaichou anyway?" She asked, blinking twice. Kensei's eye twitched with something that wasn't quite annoyance.

"Beats me," he muttered. But he knew, and the guilt was beginning to get to him.

"He sure seems upset," Mashiro laminated thoughtfully. Kensei grunted. "Maybe he's in pain," she said. Kensei grunted. "Maybe he's in love." Kensei grunted. "Oooh maybe his idol failed to be ideal and now the harsh realities of the world are crashing on him ten fold because this is the _second time this has_ _happened_ ," Mashiro giggled. Kensei could feel murder in his blood stream. He slammed his hands on his desk, not for the first time. "Or maybe he's just gassy~"

"Shut up already, I'm going!" He yelled. (The tiny, frightened recruit from earlier scurried away from the office, again foiled in her attempt to simply ask her taichou if she could have the next day off.) Mashiro fell back into the couch, closing her eyes, content.

Kensei stalked all the way to the training grounds. His subordinates bodily threw themselves to the side in an effort to get out of his way, intimidated by the irate vibrations of his spiritual pressure. Presumably, given his status, he'd be a bit better about controlling it. But he'd once told a breathless bunch of newbies that the best way to get strong was to continuously fight a strong presence. And although the method was a bit unorthodox, it wasn't necessarily ineffective. Although, the number of new recruits in the fourth on any given day had not been well received by Unohana.

Kensei slid the door to the training ground open with what was probably more force than necessary, and then wandered around for a moment, unable to locate his co-second. He wasn't in the kido room, nor was he in the equipment room. After narrowing down the rooms he stopped short at the locker room. It was the end of the day, after all. It'd make sense that Hisagi was getting ready to go home. Kensei braced himself. Perhaps he should just wait outside for Hisagi to get done. That'd save them both the awkwardness. And it'd save Kensei in particular the unwarranted thoughts that had been slipping into his brain about Hisagi. The kid. Crybaby.

"Dammit," Kensei mutter, because now it was too late. He pressed his back firmly agains the wall, crossed his arms and tried to remember the names of all the new recruits, and tried to forget anything else. He was only mildly successful at either. He'd gotten through about half the names when the silence gave way and singing floated through the open door of the locker room. Kensei raised an eyebrow and half turned his body to listen, confused about how bad it didn't sound. There was no way Hisagi could be such a lackluster musician and not be completely tone deaf. Must be someone else. Kensei sidled around the wall and into the room to inspect. There was only one shower going, only one occupant. He stood in front of it, cleared his throat so that the other person could hear him and waited. The singing stopped immediately, it was almost a shame.

A second later the curtain was drawn back and Kensei came face to face with the lanky towel-covered form of his co-second. Hisagi was flushed, probably from exercise. Kensei was also red in the face, if anyone asked why, his was exercise induced, too. He ignored it.

"That you singing?" He asked, his voice gruff. Hisagi, perhaps unsure of the reaction his taichou would have to the noise (given the unfavorable one he'd had that morning, which still echoed in the younger man's mind) nodded hesitantly. Kensei's arms folded back over his chest and he found that he wasn't entirely surprised, and yet he kind of was…

"Huh," he huffed. Well, he'd been wrong before

* * *

 _A fic exchange on tumblr led to this! The prompt was reactions to Hisagi's musical ability. The genre was humor and here we are. I've been pretty angsty with KenShuu lately, so switching to humor was a bit tough. Also sorry about grammar issues. I didn't have time to proof. Anyway, tell me what you think!_


End file.
